Need
by Rawr-x
Summary: All need boils down to love when you look deep enough.


Neither of them would call it anything more than a lustful desperation. They did not love, did not care, and they certainly did not _want_ it. But they needed it. There was no declaration of feelings, no sudden change of heart, merely a simple understanding. The insults became less harsh, and were spoken in quieter tones. The war was coming; They could both feel it. Neither of them wanted to expend much effort on hating one another when it was soon to turn meaningless. They didn't suddenly turn from screaming in each others' faces to just holding each other after a rare fight actually did break out. It was gradual, but when it did happen, both boys couldn't understand how it came about.

* * *

Malfoy had him pinned against the wall, right fist cocked back and murder in his eyes. Harry was subtly inching his fingers closer to the wand in his pocket, when Malfoy pressed his palm against the cool stone wall next to Harry's face. The blond leaned forward, eyes squeezed shut, and rested his head lightly on Harry's left shoulder, one hand still clenching tightly to Harry's shirt. Harry stood there awkwardly for a couple of minutes before placing his own arms around Malfoy's back, feeling all wrong and out of place. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be yelling and trying to hex the other first, not leaned up against some wall clinging to each other. But Harry didn't push him away, and he often wonders why.

* * *

Harry was sitting at the edge of the lake, staring out into the dark waters. It was past curfew and he had classes early the next morning, but he couldn't sleep. He reached out and picked up a pebble from the ground, tossing it in his hand a few times before skipping it out across the black ink. He counted five skips before it plunged down into the lake, leaving a great rippling effect in its wake, and Harry wondered how something so small could have such an effect on something that size. There was a rustling from behind him as a pair of shoes appeared to his right side. Malfoy sat down next to him as he grabbed a small rock, and tossed it out over the water, eyes following the skips. Seven, and he smirked as Harry frowned. They sat there until dawn started to break, pitching rocks into the lake, and neither of them spoke. The only sounds were of the pebbles hitting the water, and the occasional sigh as one boy bested the other.

* * *

Malfoy never meant for things to happen the way they did. Harry wasn't supposed to find out, and he damn sure wasn't supposed to _care_. But he did, and that's what got Malfoy the most. That out of every person that he knows, it was Harry. Harry walked into the empty classroom Malfoy was hiding out in, and for minute, all he could was stare. And as Malfoy babbled on about how it wasn't because he wanted to die, but because he didn't know how else to handle things, Harry just walked over to him, and hugged him. The piece of metal dropped to the floor as Malfoy gripped his shirt, and Harry kept holding on to the sobbing boy. They never spoke of the night again, but they both knew that things were headed somewhere they weren't prepared to go.

* * *

Harry was walking back to the castle from the Quidditch pitch, school broomstick in hand, when he ran into Malfoy for the first time in two weeks. Harry suspected Malfoy had been in the Forbidden Forest because of the scratches all over his arms and his hands, but he didn't question him about it; they just walked to the broom shed together. Right after Harry shut the door, Malfoy roughly shoved him up against it. He was gripping Harry's shoulders, an intense look in his eyes, but Harry wasn't scared. He closed his eyes, just like the first night, and felt Malfoy lean in closer, hesitating before pushing his lips hard against Harry's. It was desperate, and Malfoy was crying, but he just kept kissing Harry. He was afraid to let go, because he knew that after he did things would start to fall apart. The war was just around the corner, and he knew this couldn't last forever. He tried to make it last as long as he could before he had to stop and walk back up to the castle, leaving Harry slumped against the wood. Harry slid down to the ground, and watched Malfoy's retreating form grow smaller in the distance until he walked through the door and out of sight.

* * *

Harry remembers Malfoy smiling, laughing. He remembers pale skin and soft lips. He remembers the warmth of another body pressed against his, and the soft sounds of contentment as they moved. Harry refused to see what is sitting right in front of him. He doesn't see the glassy eyes and cold lips, the face twisted into a perpetual look of fear. He doesn't scream as Ginny rushes toward him and hugs him, burying her face in his neck. He simply closes his eyes, and remembers as he tries to breathe evenly.

* * *

Harry keeps his eyes open now when he kisses Ginny, when he holds her. If he closes them all he can see is Malfoy's face, and it's too easy to breathe out the wrong name. He loves her, but he knows he doesn't love her like he should. He convinces himself that he needs to do this to make her happy, and in a way, he thinks that he needs her as much as she needs him, for stability, just like he needed Malfoy. But there was something so much deeper with Malfoy, and he knows it isn't Ginny that he needs. Harry never told Malfoy he loved him, even before the morning of the last battle. But Harry thinks that somehow, Malfoy knew it all along. Because in the end, he thinks that all need boils down to love when you look deep enough. 


End file.
